


A Nest for Two

by Neyasochi



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bird AU, Dove Shiro, M/M, Raven Keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-27 05:27:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16696312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neyasochi/pseuds/Neyasochi
Summary: Keith sets out to build a nest.





	A Nest for Two

**Author's Note:**

> This is not like… bird-accurate. I’m writing with my heart and zero research.  
> Based on [ Yui's Bird AU ](https://twitter.com/yui930_log/status/1062403542269358080) which I love with all my heart.

Keith is on a mission.

It takes him far and wide, his small, dark figure streaking across the cloudy skies and fluttering through the increasingly bare branches of trees going dormant.

He gathers twigs, mostly. If they're too big, he snaps them down to size with his beak, as dark and shiny as a beetle’s shell. Keith’s collection of twigs grows and grows, and to the pile he adds small bones and thin scraps of colored plastic, shiny baubles and lengths of chain recovered from parking lots and park benches.

No material is too risky to collect. Keith lands on the backs of sheep to steal beakfuls of their fluffy grey-white wool, tiny feet digging tight for purchase as the mammal under him continues to amble and graze; he totters up to sleeping dogs and plucks generous tufts of fur from their winter coats, hop-flying away as soon as they start to stir.

And as he passes over two humans walking through a park, Keith’s heart sets on the brilliant red of a poorly knitted scarf and the long, loose thread of yarn that freely dangles over the human’s shoulder. With his hollow bones filled with determination, he tucks his wings in and makes a daring swoop toward the slow-moving target. Air wooshes around him as he drops a hundred feet in a focused freefall, beak opening at the last second— 

 _Got it._ He snags the yarn before the human even knows what hit him, snipping it clean with the edge of his beak. Keith is already speeding away when he hears the human yelp and squawk, his companion laughing as she points up to the raven soaring away with a piece of his scarf.

The red yarn is the prettiest addition to his nesting pile, Keith thinks. At least until his next trip into the city. 

He’s passing over busy streets when he spies it— a glint there on the asphalt, in between the painted stripes of a crosswalk. Keith lands on a nearby traffic light to get a closer look, angling his head and waddling sideways along the steel strut as he hunts for the source of the sparkle. 

It’s a ring, silvery and bright. Stones along its edge catch the sunlight like raindrops and dew, and Keith knows he _has_ to have it. Heavy, rumbling cars unwittingly pass right over the small ring, while the narrow tires of motorcycles come closer to treading directly on it. Humans mill through the crosswalk when the traffic lights change and the cars stop, but none of them notice the gem-studded band under their feet.

Keith makes his move. 

As the cars begin to roll out, he flutters down to the sidewalk and perches along the curb, waiting on the crosswalk signal. He ruffles his feathers as the crowd of humans standing on the corner with him grows, drawing his tiny frame up another inch or two. _Imposing._

The crosswalk light changes. The feet behind him begin to move.

Keith swings his short legs as fast as they’ll go, making his strides long as he darts for the ring in the middle of the crosswalk. Urgency compels him to cover the last few feet in springy hops, delivering him to his prize before some hulking human can reach it first.

It’s even prettier up close, despite the spots of grime and dirt from lying in the road. Keith snatches it up in his beak and takes off, beating his wings hard to get well above traffic and the obstacles that line city streets. He gets the ring safely home, clear of any jealous magpies or crows.

 

* * *

It’s Keith’s first time building a nest.

He’s never stayed anywhere long enough to have need of one. He’s never before felt this tug of instinct to make a place to call home.

It’s slow, meticulous work, but the labor is one of love. He plucks twigs one-by-one from the pile and arranges them just so. They’re slowly woven together, the slivers of wood interspersed with wire, little lengths of bone, and shreds of plastic straw. As the structure takes shape, Keith pads it out with wool and fur and his own downy feathers, plucked from his chest and tucked into tiny gaps in the twig frame.

All throughout, Keith carefully weaves the red yarn and metal chain, winding them through twig branches until the nest is at last complete. And at its center, he delicately places the ring.

Then Keith settles back, satisfied with his work, and sets out to find Shiro.

It doesn’t take him long. Keith is small but fleet of wing, and there aren’t many doves around these parts— fewer still with a scar running just above their beak and a blend of raven feathers on one wing.

Shiro blinks down at the small, rounded nest lined with grey fur and dark feathers, woven through with shining lengths of silver and fuzzy red yarn. His head tilts and turns at the gleaming band sitting in its center, the metal studded with gemstones that sparkle as they catch the rays of sunset.

“Keith! You made this? It’s the prettiest nest I’ve ever seen.”

Keith’s chest puffs, his feathers ruffling as he preens under Shiro’s praise. “It’s warm, too.”

He waits for Shiro to join him, but the dove instead shuffles along the nest's rim, his toes curling into the twigs. 

Keith extends a foot and taps it against the sturdy nest, anchored with a base of dried mud and stout twigs. “Shiro. Shiro, please.”

Shiro blinks again, his wonder turning to worry as he peers down into the nest at Keith. “Are you sure I’ll fit?”

“Of course!” Keith hops in place. “I made it for _us_ , Shiro.”

Hesitantly, Shiro sticks a leg out and clambers down from the nest’s edge. There’s just enough room within its walls for the two of them— a calculated decision on Keith’s part— and Shiro fills up the remaining space until they’re snugly wedged together within the shelter of the nest.

Keith’s eyes slip halfway shut as Shiro settles down beside and on top of him, the weight and warmth of his feathery bulk a comforting pressure. He’s squished in the best way, tucked safely under Shiro as the wind rises and rattles the dry, red-brown leaves clinging to the branches around them. The cold can’t even touch him.

“Are you okay, Keith?” Shiro asks, dipping his head down to peer at the raven, his beak gently tapping against Keith’s.

Keith blinks.

“Never been better,” he assures Shiro, snuggling into the the dense plumage covering the dove’s chest and closing his eyes.

The chill grows sharper as the sun sets and heavy clouds roll in, but their nest remains warm, cozy, a perfect home to hold them both.


End file.
